


Connecting

by shortbusgus



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Anxiety Attacks, Complete, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Pen Pals, Science Boyfriends, Sexting, Smut, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-04-26 11:29:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5003092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shortbusgus/pseuds/shortbusgus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started as an assignment for class and grew to be so much more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It started during Darcy’s junior year at Culver. Her International Relations professor started a discussion of current conflicts and US military installations around the world. Several lively debates and thoughtful discussions later, the professor revealed his purpose in bringing up the topic. He hypothesized that they couldn’t truly understand the implications of international conflict because they would never be forced to be close to it; they lived in the world’s only superpower and it was unlikely that they would personally act as a military presence. And then he whipped out a listing he’d received from the local Veterans Affairs office of men and women stationed all over the world looking for pen pals, of all things.

The expectation would be that each student would pick a person from the listing and correspond with them in one way or another at least once a week during the entirety of their six month course. At the end of it all, they would be tasked with writing a paper about what those stationed overseas in areas in and out of conflict felt about the world at large.

The list of names from all branches of military life made it’s way around the room until it finally landed square in front of Darcy. She perused the list quickly and found a J. Barnes, from Brooklyn. Darcy was originally from Chicago, but now resided in Flatbush with a wacky roommate so she figured, if nothing else, she could provide him news from his home borough. She wrote her name in her usual curly script, claiming one J. Barnes as her own, and passed the paper on to her classmate.

A week later, her professor returned with APO/FPO addresses or emails for each of their choices and Darcy was pleased to see that J. Barnes had provided an email address with that being their preferred contact method.

Once back in her shared apartment that evening, Darcy popped a bag of popcorn and booted up her ancient brick of a laptop. She was surprised by the little spike of excitement she got when pulling up her email program and typing in the address for J. Barnes. She grabbed a handful of her snack and crammed it into her mouth before cracking her knuckles and composing the first message to her mysterious soldier.

* * *

 

Surprisingly, at least to Darcy who’d been told a number of times that her personality, which was comprised of mostly snark and was an acquired taste, she and J. Barnes (“My name is James, but please call me Bucky, everyone does.”) get on like a house on fire. What started off as a weekly exchange of emails quickly morphed into an every other day schedule and just as quickly became a daily routine. Even if the correspondence was short, just a sentence or two about her day (“Seriously, there was an Elvis impersonator singing a duet of ‘Islands in the Stream’ with a chubby dude dressed as Spiderman wearing a fanny pack on the 5 train. Is that a sign of the apocalypse? If it isn’t, it should be. They were actually pretty good. I gave them $5 and screamed ENCORE! Weirdest day ever. Be safe! Later, dude!”), an email was always sent to Bucky before she went to bed each night and she’d wake up to one in return each morning.

Exchanging emails with Bucky was as easy as breathing. Darcy never felt self conscious, which was a very new sentiment for her, and soon no subject was taboo, no topic too sad, too silly, or too personal. They both spoke of lack of family, Darcy having lost her parents when she was very young and being raised in foster care and Bucky’s parents passed when he was in high school, leaving him and his little sister Becca in the care of their grandmother.

They daydreamed together, Darcy talked about what she hoped to do with her degree once she finally graduated and Bucky counted down what remained of his tour, waxing poetic about greasy cheeseburgers and ice cold beer once he was back on American soil. They acted as each other’s cheering section, applauding all successes no matter how small, like Darcy getting a barista gig at a cafe a couple blocks from the apartment or Bucky winning at poker with his squad ("Were you playing strip poker with them?", "No, but Clint put his boxers in the pot anyway...Clint's a weird guy."), and they propped each other up after failures, either real or just perceived. This continued through the entirety of Darcy’s course, she got her solid B+ on her paper, and once that concluded they saw no reason to stop, they didn’t want to sever the connection that had come to mean so much to them both.

Eventually, even the emails didn’t feel like enough. Bucky had filled a space within Darcy she hadn’t realized was empty. Or maybe she never wanted to acknowledge the emptiness in her chest, but either way, Bucky was the solution.

When Bucky’s emails started to ask if Darcy had a cell phone and would be willing to trade numbers, she jumped at the chance. He explained that he wouldn’t be able to talk or text while in training or on patrol or guard rotation, but he’d get her messages and be able to chat during his off hours.

> **Bucky** : Darcy girl?
> 
> **Darcy** : Buckeroo?
> 
> **Bucky** : OMG, don’t call me that!
> 
> **Darcy** : Now that I know it annoys you, you’re permanently Buckeroo, congrats on your new identity!
> 
> **Bucky** : ARGH
> 
> **Darcy** : How was your day/night/whatever?
> 
> **Bucky** : Long, hot, and boring
> 
> **Bucky** : Whatcha doing?
> 
> **Darcy** : Laying in bed, it’s early over here. You?
> 
> **Bucky** : Same, it’s late over here ;)
> 
> **Bucky** : Hey, I need your pic

Darcy broke out in a cold sweat. Oh god, this...could not end well. Self-esteem issues were a nice way to put the hang ups that Darcy dealt with in regards to the way she looked. She’d always struggled with her appearance. She thought she was too short, thick, her hips too wide, boobs too big, nose small and pushed in, eyes too big for her face and then they had to be bad so she needed to top the whole kit and caboodle off with glasses. She knew some people liked their women curvy, she just hadn’t had much luck in finding any and those that did show an interest in her physically seemed to end up being total dicks.

> **Darcy** : Uh, why?
> 
> **Bucky** : So I can have something to attach to your contact, want to see when you message

Darcy sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and worried it with her teeth nervously. She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. This was Bucky. He knew more about her than almost anyone, she’d never shied away from sharing anything with him if he asked. But...was it because although it felt like they knew each other intimately, their distance still offered her a sliver of anonymity? If Bucky were to pass her sitting on her stoop today he would never know it was her. This picture could take that away. She was terrified.

> **Bucky** : You don’t have to
> 
> **Darcy** : no no NO. It’s okay...just don’t expect much okay? Remember that you enjoy my personality and think I’m a funny motherfucker.
> 
> **Bucky** : Darce.
> 
> **Darcy** : James.
> 
> **Bucky** : I can hear you freaking out all the way from Afghanistan. If you don’t want to send me a pic of you, send me one of your ridiculous cat pictures or something. I just want to stick SOMETHING to your contact.
> 
> **Bucky** : I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable

Darcy rolled her eyes and huffed out another breath, now feeling ridiculous. He wouldn’t care what she looked like. She knew he wouldn’t. Would he?

> **Bucky** : Look, I fucked up, I’m sorry. Just forget I asked and tell me about your date with that hipster guy from the coffee shop. Do I have to kick his ass?

She slumped against her mountain of pillows. Now he felt bad. She’d caused that with her insecurity. Bucky was one of her closest friends, she could do this. She WOULD do this. Darcy pushed her long curly hair back from her face, leaned back in the pillows and gave a shy smile while trying to get an angle for the photo that would somehow flatter her. The shutter sound from her phone snapped and she hit send on her text before she could rethink it.

And nothing. No follow up message from Bucky came through. Why hadn’t she just sent a fucking cat meme?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks very much for the positive response this has received. You're fabulous and sure know how to motivate a girl :)

“Why are you so down in the dumps?” Jane asked as she shuffled back and forth on her feet in front of the stove, cooking scrambled eggs while she nibbled absently on a piece of toast.

Meanwhile, Darcy was face down at the breakfast bar. She mumbled something garbled at Jane.

“Use your words, Darcy,” her roommate chided and split the eggs between two plates. She slid one over towards where Darcy was puddled over the counter.

Darcy and Jane’s relationship functioned because they bonded via mutual weirdness. Jane wouldn’t cast stones at Darcy’s social awkwardness because she had her own brand caused by being so intelligent and passionate about her calling (astrophysics!) that having a casual conversation with a non-scientist was painful to all participants. Darcy also saw Jane as a person in need of a caretaker. She adopted the absent minded woman the day they met and since had always ensured she was well looked after, whether that meant sliding food in front of Jane’s face she could pick at mindlessly while she was working on research or pulling her out of the apartment for drinks to get her away from said research, Darcy was always there, looking out for Jane’s best interests.

Darcy lifted her head from the countertop. “I think I fucked things up with Bucky,” she muttered and then let her forehead thump back down. 

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Jane insisted around a mouthful of partially chewed eggs. “What happened?”

“He asked for a picture and I freaked out and waited too long to send one and now he probably thinks I’m a freak, not to mention hideous, and isn’t talking to me,” she rambled. “I tried to take it back via ten...okay, more like twenty, messages with various versions of “J/K brotato” and grumpy cat pics. Also, in this day and age, why hasn’t there been a recall text function created yet, huh? _HUH_?” She cried, flailing her arms around in the air before falling into her previous slumped posture.

Jane dropped her plate in the sink. “I’m sure you’re blowing this way out of proportion.”

Darcy sat up and started to shovel the now lukewarm eggs into her mouth. “I’m sure I’m not.” She said around half chewed breakfast food.

“Oh, gross. Chew and swallow, Darce. Anyway, from what you’ve told me about him, which I’m assuming is everything since you rarely utter a sentence without the word ‘Bucky’ in it, I'm sure he wouldn’t be caught up in whatever headspace you are about how you look,” Jane patted Darcy on the back. She pointed at the clock on the wall, “Hey, don’t you have work?”

Darcy’s head darted up to look at the clock before she let out a shriek. “OH FUCKING CHRIST ON A CRACKER! I have to be there in ten minutes, if I’m late again Jonas is gonna throw a shit fit and boot my ass to the curb!” She raced out of the kitchen to her room, threw on some clean clothes and booked it out of the apartment.

Of course, because if Darcy had any luck, it was bad, she stumbled over her own feet on the last flight of stairs and tumbled ass over teakettle down the last six steps. It took her a moment to recover and shake the cobwebs free, but the fear of losing her job motivated Darcy to get back up, dust herself off and head down to the coffee shop as fast as her legs would carry her, all the while nursing a possible concussion and an ache in her ribs.

* * *

 

Darcy’s day at work as a coffee goddess (Barista, what a boring title. The caffeine deprived worshipped her, thus, goddess Darcy in the house!) dragged by at a snail’s pace. She was miserable both mentally and physically. She was still upset about the exchange, and subsequent lack thereof, with Bucky and then the tumble down the stairs left Darcy’s pride bruised along with the entire right side of her torso. The only silver lining she could seem to glean from the situation was that she was pretty sure she was getting sympathy tips by wincing when she handed patrons their overpriced, coffee concoctions.

When quitting time rolled around, Darcy was determined to use all of her tips to fill the once again present hole in her heart with beer and chinese take-out. And she hoped it all went straight to her hips. Hello, extra egg rolls.

She rolled into the apartment a bit after six laden with a large bag of deliciousness and a six pack of cheap brews and there was no sign of her roommate. Darcy was guessing Jane was holed up in a lab somewhere being a genius which meant that she had the apartment to herself. She could camp out in the living room with her Netflix queue and feel sorry for herself while playing a game of how-many-crab-rangoons-can-I-fit-in-my-mouth without fear of reprisal.

Darcy was curled up in pajamas and a tank top that had seen far better days, elbows deep in a carton of veggie lo mein when she heard her phone chime from its place on the coffee table. She took another long pull from her current beer, four of six, before leaning over to nab it.

> ** [1 New Message From Bucky] **

Darcy’s heart jumped into her throat and stayed there. She stared down at the phone clutched in her hand and when it pinged again it took all of her willpower not to toss it down like it had burst into flames.

> ** [2 New Messages From Bucky] **

She toyed with the phone screen, slid her thumb almost until the point of unlocking it and then withdrew, letting the screen snap back into starting position. Darcy desperately wanted to see what Bucky had written, but the very same thought wasn’t sure she could take it if it was unkind. His sudden absence that morning had already felt akin to stab in the guts; did she really want to feel it all over again fresh, rub a bit of salt into the wound? One thing Darcy wasn’t was a glutton for punishment.

But another thing she wasn’t was a coward. _It's better to know, right?_  , she thought. Darcy squeezed her eyes shut and thumbed open the device. She cautiously peeked a single eye open, daring to dart her gaze down to the screen.

> **Bucky** : My fucking phone died! I’m sorry, you there?
> 
> **Bucky** : God, you’re beautiful. Sight for sore eyes.

Darcy dropped the phone. With her mouth hanging agape she could do nothing but stare down at the device where it lay on the carpet. Bucky wasn’t avoiding her...he thought she was pretty, or at least was kind enough to lie, either way, she considered it a win. Darcy quickly scrabbled for her phone and typed back a response with shaky, slightly greasy fingers.

> **Darcy** : Thought you didn’t want to talk anymore.
> 
> **Bucky** : Sorry, darlin', I wasn’t paying attn to the battery
> 
> **Bucky** : You definitely wanted talk to me...how many texts did you send?!
> 
> **Bucky** : Also, I’m joking.
> 
> **Darcy** : S’ok. Thanks for being nice about the freak out and stuff
> 
> **Bucky** : I’m always nice!
> 
> **Darcy** : Pull the other one Barnes
> 
> **Bucky** : [img1.jpg attached]

“Oh nuh uh,” Darcy whispered as the hand not handling her phone flew to her mouth. It could be anything, Darcy thought. They were in the habit of sending each other funny meme pics all the time, this was probably no different. She’d open it up and it would be a pissed off cat or one begging for a cheeseburger, maybe something that would lead them to discussing how shallow the human gene pool had become. She selected to download the image and braced for impact.

“Holy hot dude, batman,” she whimpered as she took in the picture of who could be none other than Bucky Barnes. He wore a huge rakish grin, showing teeth, crinkling the corners of his eyes and popping a dimple in one stubbled cheek. Dark hair, disheveled and appearing to still be wet from his morning shower, bright grey blue eyes, and full pink lips. Goddamn.

> **Darcy** : Goddamn
> 
> **Bucky** : back atcha beautiful

Darcy couldn't suppress the scoff and eye roll.

> **Bucky** : Time to get ready for patrol, talk tonight?
> 
> **Darcy** : Wouldn’t miss it. Charge your damn phone.
> 
> **Bucky** : Promise.
> 
> **Darcy** : Please be safe.
> 
> **Bucky** : Aren’t I always? Sleep tight. XOXO

  
Hugs and kisses? Well, that was new…


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...um...smut? Texty smut? It's down there. Last part of the chapter if it's not your bag and you wanna skip it!

Darcy was admittedly a teensy bit hungover the following day. After her last contact with Bucky, she’d proceeded to polish off the last of her beer and had maybe stolen a bit of Jane’s tequila in celebration of the fact that the man she considered one of her closest friends didn’t actually think she was awful.

As a result, she wasn’t thinking entirely clearly during her morning routine, including conversing with Bucky while she was up getting ready for her shift at the café.

> **Bucky** : Morning dollface
> 
> **Darcy** : Blah, morning is so overrated. Also “dollface”? Are you from the 40’s?
> 
> **Bucky** : aww, don’t be like that. Lemme see your smile, gorgeous. It’s the only thing keeping me going. I’ve got overnight guard duty.
> 
> **Darcy** : Don’t be mean
> 
> **Bucky** : Not bein’ mean. I can’t stop looking at your picture. Please?

Darcy, lacking any semblance of grace, plopped herself down on the lid of the toilet and stared at her phone and Bucky’s earnest request. She wasn’t necessarily opposed to taking another quick picture for him, he genuinely seemed to want one and he’d said he liked the other, but she was only wrapped in a towel and had some amazing bedhead. Once their conversation concluded she would be ready to hop into the shower just like every other morning she was scheduled to work. Darcy would later blame her next decision on her half-asleep, sort of hungover state.

She stood in front of the large bathroom mirror, readjusted her ample breasts in the fluffy towel and crossed an arm underneath for support…and maybe to show off a bit more cleavage than needed. _If you’re going to risk being uploaded to the internet, Darcy,_ she told herself, _make it count._ She ruffled her long, chocolate brown curls and cracked her usual smirk before snapping the picture and sending it off.

> **Bucky** : I think you broke me. I’m officially broken.
> 
> **Darcy** : yeah, right. Tell uncle sam to send me the bill, smart ass.
> 
> **Bucky** : You have no idea how amazing you are, do you? I’m going to find whoever made you feel so bad about yourself and kick the shit outta them.

Darcy blushed a deep scarlet at the sentiment. It was no secret to people who knew Darcy that she’d never considered herself much of a catch. She was intelligent and quick witted, but she’d never much liked her classic hourglass figure and thought that others shared that opinion.

> **Darcy:** I have no idea what to say to that.
> 
> **Bucky:** No need to say anything. Just believe me when I tell you that you’re beautiful, Darcy.
> 
> **Darcy:** Um…okay. Well, I do actually need to shower and head to work.
> 
> **Bucky:** Have a good day today, okay?
> 
> **Bucky:** Oh hey, it’s Friday! Does Darcy-girl have a date?
> 
> **Darcy:** Friday Night Frivolity is a tradition and, as a matter of fact, I DO have a date this evening and won’t be getting sloppy drunk with Jane
> 
> **Bucky:** Be careful, have fun and I expect the juiciest details. I live vicariously through you! So if there is kissing (or other things), you better believe you will be telling.
> 
> **Darcy:** Promise! XOXO

Hell, if he could sign off with hugs and kisses, so could she.

* * *

 

The only thing Darcy needed to consider a date a success these days was for her partner to display rudimentary manners and not be a total prick. She remembered a time when she had a list of things she used to look for in a man; charming, funny, polite, liked dogs, liked dancing, but didn’t mind vegging out in front of the TV to marathon The Walking Dead or Firefly. Now she was happy if they didn’t insult her ass and their knuckles didn’t drag on the floor.

She should have known the date was off to a bad start when her companion “subtly” hinted that maybe she should have a salad for her meal if she wanted to watch her figure. It was all downhill from there. The guy was a world class jerk that loved to talk about himself, their entire dinner conversation revolved around his oh so exciting work as an investment banker. He never asked Darcy what she did for a living; of course, she would’ve rather gargled broken glass than deal with the disdain that would’ve dripped from his lips at hearing she made coffee all day when she wasn’t in school. The final straw was him groping her ass when they were getting into his car. And then he had the gall to ask if she was going to invite him up. _Oh hell no douchebag,_ Darcy thought, _I’m not quite that desperate yet._

> **Bucky:** How did it go?
> 
> **Darcy:** OMG, he was such an asshat. I don’t even know why I try. I swear I must give off a scent that reels in smug assholes.
> 
> **Bucky:** Sorry darlin’. How you holding up after the failboating?
> 
> **Darcy:** Disgruntled and severely sexually frustrated. My dry spell has lasted so long it’s now considered a drought. At this point it would be killing crops and causing famine.
> 
> **Darcy:** I actually considered screwing the guy for a minute, but he was so fucking pretentious I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
> 
> **Darcy:** Looks like BOB’s getting another workout this evening.
> 
> **Bucky:** …BOB?
> 
> **Darcy:** Battery Operated Boyfriend. I should own stock in Duracell I’m going through so many batteries.
> 
> **Bucky:** Do you maybe…want some help with that?
> 
> **Darcy:** Help with what? Buying stocks?
> 
> **Bucky:** Don’t play coy, kitten.
> 
> **Bucky:** [img2.jpg attached]

The photo that came through was of Bucky lying in his bunk with the sheets bunched down low on his bare torso, showing off his tanned and well-muscled chest and abs. Darcy may have drooled a little. She had to admit that he was adorable all sleep rumpled but she couldn’t suppress the giggle that bubbled out of her when looking at what she assumed was his “seduction” face. She closed the picture and switched back to their message history, goofy smile still locked in place. He couldn’t actually be considering this, wanting it.

> **Darcy:** You can’t be serious…sexting?
> 
> **Bucky:** As heart attack. Com’on, pretty girl, let me make you feel good.
> 
> **Darcy:** You’re going to blackmail me with this later, I just know it.
> 
> **Bucky:** I would never do that and you know it. In all seriousness, Darce, I’ve been half-mast since you sent me that pic of you in nothing but a fucking towel. Can’t stop thinking of you naked and wet in the shower. Go get comfortable and tell me when you’re ready for me.

She gave in. Darcy decided to stop thinking, or rather overthinking, about it and just go with the flow for once. She decided to accept that for some reason this incredibly attractive man wanted her, even if it was just for flirting and sexting while he was halfway around the world. If that’s all she could have of him, she’d make herself content with it. For once she was going to allow herself to grab onto something good, to be selfish.

Darcy walked as calmly as she could to her bedroom and stripped down to her bra and panties before slipping between her sheets and retrieving her phone.

> **Darcy:** I’m in bed
> 
> **Bucky:** What’re you wearing?
> 
> **Darcy:** Navy and white polka dotted panties and bra…you?
> 
> **Bucky:** Sounds so sexy. I’m only in my boxer briefs, but I’m guessing my last pic gave that away.
> 
> **Darcy:** Maybe a little. It was either that or you were naked.
> 
> **Bucky:** Do you want me naked, beautiful? Take off these tight boxers, leave me in nothin but my birthday suit?
> 
> **Darcy:** Yeah…

She couldn’t believe she was doing this. She’d had phone sex before, back when she’d dated a German exchange student in high school and he’d returned home. They had tried to keep their little relationship alive long distance to no avail. But this…this was new. It seemed so juvenile, but…that almost made it feel dirtier, more illicit and those feelings actually turned her on. Darcy wasn’t sure if it was because she’d been without sex for so long or if it was just because it was Bucky, but she could feel the heat building between her legs.

> **Bucky:** I’ll take mine off if you take off yours
> 
> **Darcy:** Done
> 
> **Bucky:** Are you touching yourself kitten? Getting wet? I’m so damn hard right now thinking about you in bed naked for me. Tell me what you’re doing.

Darcy quickly shed her remaining clothes and propped herself up with her pillows. She let her hand drift down her torso to graze over her breasts and tease her nipples to hardness before lightly pinching and rolling them between her fingers. She let out a little mewl of pleasure.

> **Darcy:** Rubbing my nipples. Wish it was your hands, your lips, your tongue on me.
> 
> **Bucky:** You’re killing me, baby. Got my hand wrapped around myself, stroking nice and slow and all I can think about is what it would feel like if you were here. I want to touch you everywhere.
> 
> **Darcy:** Want you.
> 
> **Bucky:** What would you do if you had me, princess?

Her breath was coming in gasps at this point as her hands had traveled down further to tease between her legs. She was soaked and her body thrummed with arousal. She used her fingers to start circling around her little bundle of nerves and moaned loudly as the sensation skittered up her spine like fireworks.

> **Darcy:** Wanna taste you, lick and suck your cock
> 
> **Bucky:** So fucking hot, baby. You want me to return the favor? You’d taste so good. Lick you until you screamed for me.
> 
> **Darcy:** God Bucky
> 
> **Bucky:** You want me to fuck you, doll? Fill you up, make you feel so good, watch you fall apart for me.
> 
> **Darcy:** Wanna ride you
> 
> **Bucky:** Oh yeah? Ride me hard and fast. Wanna be so deep inside you, babe, feel you come on my cock when I’m buried inside. You close?
> 
> **Darcy:** So so close, gonna come
> 
> **Bucky:** Come for me, Darcy
> 
> **Darcy:** Not without you, please Bucky

Just a few more circles of her fingers against her clit had Darcy crying out and seeing stars. She slumped, sweaty against her pillows and struggled to coax her breathing down from ragged pants to a normal in and out rhythm. Once she’d finally calmed down she checked her phone.

> **Bucky:** Holy shit Darcy, that was amazing.
> 
> **Darcy:** You’re telling me. I think I blacked out for a second.
> 
> **Bucky:** Told you I could make you feel good, kitten
> 
> **Darcy:** lol, smug bastard
> 
> **Bucky:** Next time, I wanna call so I can hear you ;)

Darcy groaned at the thought and pulled her covers over her head.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst? Calling angst to the stage. Angst, please report to center stage at your earliest convenience.

The summer came to a close and fall ushered in Darcy’s senior year at Culver. Classes were back in full swing and Darcy dove head first into her work. The daily correspondence via email and text with Bucky continued as it always did, although since “Sext-Gate”, as Darcy took to calling it, their exchanged messages were definitely more flirty and suggestive at times. They’d also begun weekly phone calls that left her blushing and flustered. She loved and cherished every second of it. The feeling of being desired as she was, feeling sexy in her own skin, it was new and heady.

“You haven’t been out in a while, Darce, what’s going on with you?” Jane asked one night over drinks.

“Open your eyes, Jane, we’re out right now,” Darcy said and took a long, loud slurp from her margarita after clinking their glasses together for emphasis.

“No, I mean dating. It’s been over a month.”

Darcy thought about that for a moment and realized that her friend was right. Her last date had been with that douche nozzle investment banker...the night that she and Bucky had made their relationship as physical as they could with there being an entire ocean between them. Truthfully, Darcy hadn’t really thought about her motivations when turning down requests from guys to get together for coffee or dinner. It just hadn’t felt right and she’d assumed her jackass radar was finally sharpening, enabling her to put a stop to the string of deadbeats marching in and out of her life.

“All I attract is jerks. You should do a scientific study on me. I must give off a special pheromone that only dickheads can smell. I bet we could get you published. I decided to give it a rest, you know, focus on school,” Darcy said with a shrug and another suck on her straw.

“Are you sure you’re not focusing on some _one_ else?”

Darcy just stared at her friend with a vacant look on her face causing Jane to roll her eyes and sigh in exasperation. “You seriously cannot be this blind. What about Bucky?”

“What about him?”

“Is it possible that you have feelings for him?”

Feelings for Bucky? Darcy was tempted to scoff at the ridiculousness of that statement but stopped suddenly. Bucky had taken up residence in a spot inside her mind and heart that nobody had ever slotted into before. She had no walls with him and, for the first time in her life, she had no desire to erect any. The way he made her feel, that intoxicating mix of nervousness and giddy happiness, it was...good. Really good. Probably too good. Bucky made her laugh. Made her feel like she was worth something. Like she was someone to take notice of and not just because of her tits and ass. He challenged her as a person but things with Bucky were never difficult. And she had no idea what to do about any of it.

“Oh no,” Darcy moaned low in her throat. “Oh, no, no, noooo. Janey, I’m so _fucked_.”

“Welcome to self awareness!” Jane cheered.

“Oh shut up! And take off that fucking sombrero, I can’t take you seriously right now,” Darcy snapped. “What the hell am I supposed to do? He couldn’t possibly…”

Jane stopped playing with the floppy hat that now had a home in her lap. “Why couldn’t he care about you? You’re amazing, Darcy." Jane leveled and accusatory finger at her. "You see that right there, that’s why you end up with jerks. You don’t think you deserve better! If he doesn’t want you, screw him, he’s not good enough for you. That goes for anyone and everyone.”

“Awwww...Janey, you care,” Darcy said and put on a show of making her bottom lip tremble.

“Of course I do, you dope. You know what self discovery requires?”

A large toothy grin spread across Darcy’s face as she looked at her friend. She reached over and stole the floppy hat out of her lap to place it back atop Jane’s head. “Tequila?”

Jane nodded. “Tequila.”

 

* * *

 

 

> **Darcy** : Morning Buckybear XO
> 
> **Darcy:** Yo, Buckeroo? Sleeping in, sunshine?
> 
> **Darcy:** Okay, text or something when you rouse your royal behind, your highness
> 
> **Darcy:** [img23.jpg attached] Something for you to wake *up* to...get it? Innuendo.
> 
> **Darcy:** Seriously?
> 
> **Darcy:** Where are you, Buck?
> 
> **Darcy:** Did Clint tape you to your bunk again?
> 
> **Darcy:** Okay, Barnes, I’m officially freaking out. Text me, please.
> 
> **Darcy:** It’s been over 24 hours and I haven’t heard from you. Are you okay? I just need to know that you’re safe. Please.

 

372 days. Darcy and Bucky had had contact every single day, regardless of their schedules or if it was a holiday, if they were sick or well, even if it was just a few words, for a total of 372 days.

And then nothing.

 

* * *

 

“Hi Bucky, it’s just Darcy again. Just calling to see how you are. I miss you and hope that everything is okay. It’s been two weeks since I last heard from you. Stay safe. Hugs and kisses, Buckybear.”

 

* * *

 

 

> **Darcy:** Today is six months
> 
> **Darcy:** Still thinking of you and I hope you’re safe
> 
> **Darcy:** I was never brave enough to tell you how much you mean to me
> 
> **Darcy:** It’s the one thing involving Bucky Barnes that I regret
> 
> **Darcy:** XOXO

 

* * *

 

Dear James,

This will be the last email I write to you. It’s been nearly ten months since we last connected. I hope that when you get this, if you get this, you’re in a good place. I know that your tour should’ve ended about 12 weeks back. I hope you got your cheeseburger and beer. Mostly, I just hope that this finds you safe and happy. Have a good life, Bucky, you deserve it, worked hard for it. I should draw this to a close. I’ve taken up far too much of your time these past months, anyway, right?

     Yours,

     Darcy

 

* * *

 

“Darcy, it’s been too long, come out with me. We’ll go to Marco’s, it’s two dollar margaritas and all you can eat nachos.”

Darcy looked up from her laptop to where her roommate was perched in her bedroom doorway before she marked her place in her textbook. She slid her glasses off the end of her nose and rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. “I don’t know, Janey, I still have half a chapter to get through and that’s just this book.”

“It’s Friday night! You have all weekend to finish whatever it is you’re doing. Pretty please? When did I become the one trying to get someone’s nose out of a textbook in this relationship?!” Jane cried and thumped her head against the door frame to Darcy’s room. “You’ve been working none stop for the past six weeks, you need a night off.”

“Thesis won’t write itself,” Darcy murmured and turned back to her textbook after grabbing up a highlighter.

“Uh, you’re barely through your first semester of grad school, Darce, why are you working on your Master’s thesis so early?”

The highlighter made a loud squeak as Darcy swiped it over a paragraph before she jotted some notes in the margin in pencil. “Getting a head start,” she mumbled.

“He’s not worth it, Darcy,” Jane said gently.

“No idea what you’re talking about, now if you don’t mind, I have work to do.”

“You can’t just stop everything because he’s not around for you anymore. It’s not good for you, sweetie. You have to keep moving forward, Darcy, and right now you’re stuck. You’ve been stuck for over a year,” Jane said as she stepped up to her friend. She gently laid a hand on Darcy’s hunched shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

She gave a great shuddering breath. “I thought it’d stop hurting by now, you know? What if he’s fucking dead, Jane? I’m so mad and hurt and maybe he’s dead and that makes me feel so guilty for being mad and hurt. It’s so hard. It just doesn’t end,” Darcy said, her voice small and thready.

Jane leaned down and hugged around Darcy’s shoulders. “There’s nothing you can do about it either way. It’s time to let it all go. You’ve given him enough.”

Darcy gave a mighty sniffle and turned her watery eyes up to her best friend. “I think I’m ready for those nachos now.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't leave you guys waiting long, you're too good to me...cliff hangers are the worst, amirite?

“Merry Christmas, motherfuckers!”

“There’s our girl!” Tony crowed from his spot behind the wet bar as Darcy skipped out of the open elevator with her santa hat settled firmly on her head, dressed in a deep wine colored sweater dress and sparkly flats. She made her way into the middle of penthouse to drop her overnight bag by the enormous sofa where Bruce was slouched and poking at a Starkpad.

“Dr. Fluff’n’stuff,” she cooed and kissed Bruce on the cheek before ruffling his curly hair. His cheeks pinked and Darcy chortled. “That right there is why Tony thinks you’re adorable with a capital A, Banner.”

“She’s right,” Tony called as he filled tumblers with eggnog and loaded them onto a serving tray.

Darcy had been at Stark Industries for the past six months as a lab assistant to Jane, of all people. The folks at S.I. had been attempting to woo the scientist to come and work for them for the majority of a year and after a tour of the facilities Jane had agreed to sign on with the single stipulation of being able to pick her own assistant. Surprise, surprise, she had picked Darcy.

HR had been baffled by the choice citing the fact that Darcy didn’t have a background in any hard sciences, let alone Jane’s field of study, but Jane had explained that Darcy would not only assist with her day to day research, she was also a whiz at organization and the only one who could ensure that Jane stayed healthy and happy which would be a boon to her productivity and quality of work. It took only two weeks for Darcy to ingratiate herself with the entire R&D department and become the right hand of not only Jane but also Bruce and then she was basically adopted by Tony Stark himself.

After she’d started working with Tony, he proved to be very possessive of her time, practically peeing a circle around her to stake his claim. If any employees other than Bruce or Jane sought her out for assistance, he’d grab at her arm and tell them in no uncertain terms that Darcy was his and they needed to find their own “lacky” or “minion” if they wanted one, he didn’t take kindly to sharing. In other words, Jane, Bruce and Tony were her people now. When she wasn’t in classes or doing work for her Masters degree, she was caring for high profile geniuses.

That series of events led to Darcy current situations of collapsing onto an extremely comfortable ivory sofa in the penthouse of a billionaire. “Thanks for having me guys. Jane invited me to visit her mom in London for the holiday, but it felt like I’d be intruding. I don’t feel like I’m stealing time from your mothers by crashing your Christmas. So what’s the plan?”

“Well,” Tony began as he handed out rum-laced beverages before claiming the spot on Bruce’s other side. “I would’ve had Bruce naked by now, but seeing as we have minors present--”

“I’m 25!”

“Whatever, since we have company and I’m pretty sure you don’t want to watch your boss ravage his incredibly sexy boyfriend,” he stopped to make over the top duckfaces and kissing noises in Bruce’s general direction to which he received nothing but an exasperated eyeroll from over the tablet in Bruce’s hand. “Figured we’d order take out, get tipsy, and watch all of the claymation Christmas specials. Tomorrow we have pancakes, open presents, and play with our toys.”

Darcy let out a sigh of contentment and shifted to pop her legs up onto Bruce’s lap. “I knew there was a reason you guys were my favorite.”

Bruce reached over and snatched the glass from Tony’s grasp, placing it down with his own untouched eggnog on the coffee table. “You have one last appointment,” he chided Tony.

That got Darcy’s attention. “It’s Christmas Eve, who is braving the holiday traffic in Midtown for an appointment this late?”

Tony waved his hand around noncommittally. “Vet with a prototype Starktech prosthetic, very advanced. He needs to come in for an adjustment, experiencing lag in the impulses from the primary motor cortex of his brain to the arm. It’ll be twenty minutes tops and then we’ll let the festivities begin.”

“Sergeant Barnes has arrived for his appointment, sir,” Jarvis stated in his usual dry manner.

“Speak of the devil,” Tony said and jumped up from his spot next to Bruce. “Jarvis, show him the way to the lab. You guys coming?” Tony pointed to Darcy and Bruce and quirked one eyebrow; both shrugged and trailed after him into the waiting elevator.

The music in the elevator was festive and jazzy. Darcy grabbed one of Bruce’s hands, put her other on his hip and began to sway back and forth, coaxing him into a dance. She grinned over Bruce’s shoulder at Tony and waggled her eyebrows at him causing the genius to laugh hard and loud. “Are you sure you’re not my daughter?”

“Jarvis tested our DNA.”

“Twice, sir. I’m afraid that there was a 0% match and my results were accurate within 99.9999 of a percentage point,” The AI piped in, like they would ever doubt his conclusion.

Bruce let go of Darcy’s waist and spun her out where Tony reeled her in against his chest as the elevator doors slid smoothly open to reveal the R&D lab floor. Darcy cackled as Tony danced her down the hall, individual labs lining either side, toward his own private space. The glass door stood open and they twirled inside, Darcy laughing uncontrollably and Tony singing completely out of tune. He swooped her into a deep dip to finish off their farce of a dance right in front of the seat in which Sgt. Barnes sat waiting for his adjustment.

Darcy turned toward the stranger as Tony brought her back up to her feet and as her eyes settled on the man before her she felt all the air get sucked out of the room. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, over the sound of her blood pumping in her ears. Darcy let out a very undignified squawk before both hands flew to cover her mouth. She felt the prickle of tears int her eyes and they spilled over, running unbidden down her blanched cheeks.

“Bucky?” She choked.

“Darcy-girl?” His mouth was hanging wide open and his blue grey eyes bugged out in disbelief. There were dark circles stamped under them like he hadn't slept in weeks, maybe months. His dark hair, down to around his shoulders now, was in complete disarray and rough stubble covered his cheeks and dimpled chin. He was the most gorgeous thing Darcy had ever laid eyes on.

She shook her head violently from side to side. “Oh fuck no.”

Darcy ran.

* * *

 

“Darcy!”

She heard the shouting, a mix of Tony, Bruce, and....him...as it echoed and bounced down the corridor behind her. Darcy ran as fast as she could for the bank of elevators she knew lay just ahead. She skid around a corner and fell as her treadless flats gave up the tenuous grip they had on the smooth tiled floor. Just as soon as she’d hit the floor Darcy scrambled back up, leaving a smear of blood from one of her knees, and toppled into the metal enclosure of the elevator, the only thing keeping her upright being the wall she was braced against.

“Ground now, Jarvis!” She wailed as uncontrollable sobs burst forth. Darcy felt like her chest had been cracked open and she’d left all of her organs behind in the lab. Except her heart. She knew she still had it because it hurt, nothing had ever hurt so much in her life and she grabbed at the front of her sweater dress until her knuckles turned white and her fingers went stiff from lack of bloodflow.

“Ms. Lewis, I believe you’re experiencing a panic attack,” Jarvis told her in his crisp, familiar tone. “Sir is requesting I return the elevator to its previous position.”

“Please no,” Darcy moaned between gasps for oxygen. Every drag of breath made her lungs feel as though they were ablaze. She was going to die, she was burning up from the inside out. By the time the elevator reached the ground floor she’d be nothing but a pitiful pile of ash, just another chore for the janitor.

Darcy was dimly aware that Jarvis was speaking to her, but she couldn’t compel the words to make sense over the pounding in her head and the white noise that seemed to envelop her ears. Her limbs suddenly felt heavy, like lead, and she slid down the wall of the elevator, completely lacking the strength to keep herself standing any longer.

She slumped forward, bringing her knees up and shoving her head between them, still gasping and crying uncontrollably. She had a quick sensation that the elevator seemed to be reversing directions, gravity’s force suddenly exerting itself, before a black fog began to filter in from the edges of her vision.

Then there was nothing but darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My favorite part of this chapter? Science Boyfriends! Gawd, they're adorable <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My insomnia and real life work deadlines get you guys another chapter a bit earlier than I'd originally intended.   
> Please enjoy and thank you all for reading the story thus far. I appreciate all the kind words and kudos. I think you're all the cat's pajamas :)

“This the effect you have on all the girls, Barnes?”

Tony’s angry voice filtered in through the cotton that Darcy’s head seemed to be wrapped in. Everything felt hazy, disconnected. And everything hurt.

“I didn’t know she’d be here, what the hell was she doing here? She’s a barista studying Political Science. Why the fuck were you _TOUCHING_ her? You with her? You the one that made her feel like she wasn’t good enough? Big shot billionaire filling her head with that toxic shit? Huh? _HUH_?”

Bucky. Shouting. Angry.

“S’opit,” Darcy slurred. She tried to open her eyes, but they didn’t seem to be in the mood to cooperate.

“Darcy?” Cool hands touched her face, smoothing over her cheeks. Ah, Bruce. Always so good, so understanding. She whimpered, the sound small and weak. “It’s okay, rest.” Another cool hand, combing through her hair this time.

“For the record, kid,” Darcy heard Tony say flippantly. “This big shot billionaire is in a loving, long term relationship with that compassionate, genius over there.” She’d heard that tone so many times she could actually imagine what Tony’s face looked like.

She managed to pry her eyes open. “Put your dicks ‘way,” Darcy slurred. Bruce’s face floated into focus over her. “Wha happ’n?”

“I’ll tell you what happened,” Tony shouted and Darcy grimaced, the loud noise painful.

“Shhhhh,” Bruce said softly to Tony. “Darcy you had a panic attack in the elevator. You hyperventilated until you passed out. You’re in the penthouse on the couch with me, Tony, and Sergeant Barnes.”

“Bucky?” She said timidly.

Bucky loomed above her, his dark hair fell forward around his face like an inky curtain. “Hey, beautiful,” he murmured and trailed his rough fingers down her damp cheek. Darcy shot up to a sitting position and pushed away from him as fast as she could shuffle, until she hit the other end of the large sofa and dizziness took hold again. She cradled her pounding head in her hands even as couple silent tears slid down her face.

“You don’t get to call me that. You don’t get to call me anything,” Darcy ground out between her hands. She hated that she was crying. She’d spent far too many hours, days, weeks, months crying over the man in front of her. He’d cut her off and she’d stopped...being. It took months to carve him out of that niche he’d burrowed himself into in her heart and even now that hole was open and bleeding. Seeing him here, the loss felt fresh, like a slap to the face. That deep ache had settled in her chest again and her fingers instinctively flew from her flushed, wet face to twist into the fabric of her dress. Her breath quickened to ragged pants and dark spots swam sickeningly through her line of vision.

“Hey, hey, hey, Shortstack, none of that,” Tony flopped down next to her on the couch. She’d forgotten that he and Bruce were even in the room. One of his calloused hands rubbed soothing circles into her back, she could feel the weave of her dress briefly catching on the rough patches of his fingers. “Breath for me. Deep breaths now, in, hold for two seconds, out, hold for two seconds. Com’on, kiddo, I’ll count.”

"Tony, maybe you should go finish the adjustment for the Sergeant and I'll stay with Darcy," Bruce suggested.

Darcy felt his hand still on her back, a comforting weight, but continued the deep breathing as Tony had instructed. Her head was beginning to clear again though she was now fighting bone deep exhaustion.

"Yeah. Yeah, good idea, Brucie. Com'on, Barnes, let's get you fixed up so you can get out of here and stop terrorizing my assistant to the point of unconsciousness."

Bucky’s eyes dropped from surveying Darcy’s trembling form to the floor. “Yeah, okay,” he said softly and began walking toward the elevator. He paused at Darcy’s side and reached a hand out to her, making like he’d intended to stroke her hair, but drew back before he made contact. “I’m so sorry, Darcy.”

With that, Bucky left and Darcy felt her heart break all over again.

* * *

 

Darcy was thankful that it was Bruce who opted to stay with her. If it had been Tony, twenty questions would have started before Bucky was even out of earshot, but with Bruce, the questions never came. He didn’t pry, he just hovered like a floofy haired mother hen.

“Really, doc, I’ll be fine,” Darcy tried to assure him as he continued to take medical readings of her with the help of Jarvis.

“You should eat something,” he hedged and took the glasses from the bridge of his nose to wipe them with the hem of his loose button down shirt.

“If I do I can’t guarantee it’ll stay down.” She sighed deeply and rubbed at her eyes. “I’m so damn tired.”

“Adrenaline crash caused by the fight or flight response,” Bruce supplied absently. “From Jarvis’ readings and your pupillary response, you don’t have a concussion so if you want to, I won’t stop you from sacking out on the couch or moving into the guest room for the night. We should get you some ibuprofen for the headache and to ease the swelling in your knee.”

Darcy started to plot as Bruce bent to examine and tend to the referenced abrasion on her knee. She was grateful to have such wonderful friends as Tony and Bruce, even if Tony was technically her boss. They’d been incredibly understanding about her…”episode” upon seeing Bucky. But she really needed to get the fuck out of Dodge. She knew beyond doubt that if she stayed at the Tower through tomorrow there would be no end to the coddling and, although she was fortunate to have people that seemed to genuinely care for her, she knew it would drive her completely batshit insane. She needed to escape. She needed to wallow alone, thank you very much.

“Bruce,” she asked. “My throat is really dry and scratchy. Do you think I could have a cup of tea?”

Bruce nodded encouragingly and gave her his trademark small smile. “Of course. I have some chamomile stashed in the kitchen. It should help your throat and aid with relaxation and sleep.”

“Thanks, Fluff’n’stuff.”

As soon as Bruce left the room Darcy lurched to her feet, slid into her flats and grabbed up her overnight bag. She pressed the button to call the elevator and waited, tapping her foot impatiently. She needed to be gone before Bruce returned and although it would take time for the water to boil, there was no telling if he’d return to chat after he put the kettle on. Her frazzled nerves and paranoia won out and she shot for the stairwell instead. It would take forever to get out of the building, but there was bound to be less interference this way once Bruce returned and found that she’d bolted. At least Jarvis would have a more difficult time impeding her progress on the stairs. In the elevator he could do what he did earlier and just override her command. He had no control over her own two legs, even if one was a bit gimpy.

By floor 32 she was tired enough and her knee giving her enough hell that Darcy decided it would be safe to duck through the security door and hop in the elevator for the remainder of her descent. By that time the guilt of running away had also settled in. “Jarvis?”

“How may I be of assistance, Ms. Lewis?”

“Could you please convey my deepest and most sincere apologies to Tony and Bruce for leaving? Tell them I said Merry Christmas and at least now they can have naked time.”

“But of course, Ms. Lewis.”

The doors of the elevator slid open and Darcy muttered a thank you as she stepped off and walked out of Stark Tower and into the cold, crisp winter air. The cold burrowed into her bones as the wind howled through the tall buildings and made her feel like she’d never be warm again. She hung her head against the gusts and walked toward the nearest subway stop, thoughts occupied by haunted blue grey eyes with deep shadows etched beneath them.

* * *

 

The week with Jane in London ended up being a godsend. Darcy moped and moped hard. She barely showered, ate all the ice cream she could forcibly shove into her mouth and made it out of her bed for a maximum of an hour at a time, usually just to grab a movie from the living room...or more ice cream.

Seeing Bucky, seeing that he was alive, brought back all of the memories and things Darcy had felt when he’d abruptly dropped off the face of the earth so many months ago. Now she was mourning his loss for a second time and it felt as fresh and gut wrenching as the first. The pain hadn’t dulled at all. Each night that week she cried herself to sleep and woke up screaming from nightmares each morning.

And then the messages started.

Jane was due to be back in New York in two days. Darcy was still making the most of her alone time by marathoning home improvement television on the couch in her pajamas when the first cluster of messages arrived.

> **Caller Unknown** : I’m so sorry
> 
> **Caller Unknown** : I never wanted to hurt you

Darcy froze when she saw them. When she’d picked up her phone she’d assumed it would be the daily check up from Tony or Bruce to ensure she was taking care of herself and invite her to drop by if she got bored or felt up to company. From the content she could guess who the messages were from and she hadn’t a clue what to do with them. He’d abandoned her. But he was apologizing, maybe that’s all he wanted to do. Settle things enough so he could move forward himself, leave her behind for good. Maybe the last thing she could give him was closure.

> **Caller Unknown** : I never stopped caring about you, Darcy
> 
> **Caller Unknown** : Would you let me explain? Please?

Did she want to know what excuses he’d make? What did she have to lose at this point, she wondered. Truthfully, as soon as she’d received the first message she’d wanted to see him again. She’d thought of nothing else since the night in the Tower. Bucky had occupied nearly her every waking thought. If nothing else, she could unload everything that had been festering in her chest these past few months. Maybe it would carve the last stubborn pieces of him from her soul.

> **Darcy** : Jane’s Carousel, 8 pm.

 


	7. Chapter 7

Darcy couldn’t justify how nervous she was. She didn’t have anything to be sorry for, it was Bucky who had the explanations, he was the one that should be nervous about what her reaction would be, if he actually cared. After sending her reply she had run to the shower to wash days of funk from her skin. She knew not to get too optimistic, but she felt lighter as she rubbed and scrubbed and deep conditioned.

After the shower she stood naked in front of her tiny closet and pondered what exactly one was expected to wear when physically meeting the man you considered your best friend (*cough*are deeply in love with*cough*) for the first time after he abandoned you for over a year without a word, letting you think he was dead or at least no longer desired the meager company you shared. She resolutely decided he would see her as she normally was, no fancy dress up, she had nobody to impress, and opted for a simple combo of jeans, a faded Ninja Turtles tee shirt, and her low top Chucks. Basic Darcy Lewis at her finest.

Jane’s Carousel was clear across Brooklyn from Darcy’s Flatbush apartment, but she’d always loved it there. The happiness practically hung in the air to be snatched up whenever you needed a little boost to your mood. Darcy believed that sadness was forbidden on premises. She liked those odds. Darcy wrapped her coat around herself tightly and slung a navy scarf she’d knitted around her neck before heading out for the subway. She was ready for answers.

* * *

 

Although the carousel was closed at that hour, the lights still shone through the glass enclosure. It had started to snow, tiny flakes that melted as soon as they hit the ground, just serving to make everything glisten under the bright bulbs. Darcy sat at one of the benches that lined the promenade in front of the child’s ride and stared out at the Brooklyn Bridge and the Manhattan skyline across the East River. Nothing like making yourself feel insignificant.

“Haven’t been here in ages,” a deep baritone stated, the Brooklyn accent thick. Bucky claimed the seat next to her on the bench and leaned forward, placing his elbows atop his knees, his eyes trained out at the shining reflections on the water.

“Sorry to drag you all the way out to DUMBO,” Darcy said and darted a glance at the man at her side. His dark hair was tucked behind his ears and snowflakes were getting caught in the waves. He wore an old, broken in leather jacket over what looked like a blue button down, grey waistcoat and black jeans. His skin seemed a little pale and his cheeks slightly more sunken than the last picture she’d received from him. It made Darcy want to take him home, hold him close, and feed him a sandwich or twelve. “It’s just pretty here, you know?” She said instead.

“Yeah. Haven’t had much pretty lately. It’s nice. Actually don’t live too far. Staying with Clint in Bed-Stuy.” Darcy saw the small smile turn up Bucky’s lips, saw that it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m so fucking sorry, Darce.”

She found she couldn’t make her mouth say anything so she just nodded. They shifted on the bench to face each other although Darcy kept her gaze down. She didn’t trust herself to look at him until he was done saying his peace, to offer up whatever excuse he had for ruining her, even if he hadn’t realized he was doing it.

“I thought you’d forget about me,” Bucky offered. She could see him wringing his hands in his lap. One metal, one flesh, the fingers twisting, locking, then letting go.  “Looked like you did by the way you were dancin’ with Stark the other day.”

Anger, hot and sharp, flared inside Darcy’s guts. Her head snapped up and she shoved at his chest with two fingers. “Where do you get off, James Buchanan Barnes?” She spat. “You dropped off the face of the earth over twelve months ago and you have the gall to take a friendship that pulled me out of a hole that YOU put me in and toss it into my face like I’ve done something wrong. I mourned you for months! I didn’t eat, didn’t sleep. I left my apartment only to go to classes and even that was just to make sure I wouldn’t get kicked out. I cried for you every day. So, you know what? You can take whatever you wanted to say to me and choke on it, James. We’re done here.” Darcy stood abruptly to leave and found Bucky gently wrapping his cool fingers around her slim wrist.

“Darcy, wait please! That was outta line, I-I’m sorry. I’m really fucking this up,” Bucky looked at her with pleading eyes. “Please sit back down.”

She yanked her wrist from his grasp, but sat down with a harumph before crossing her arms over her chest. A defensive posture, she knew, but she felt she needed the armor at that moment. The little current of rage still fizzled beneath her skin.

“I didn’t stop talkin’ to you on purpose, Darcy, you gotta know. My squad,” his voice tipped back over to calm and low, monotonous. “We got ambushed on patrol. I took a load of shrapnel to my chest and arm, was knocked out real good for a coupla weeks. When I woke up, I’d been shipped back to the US with an honorable discharge...and they’d taken my arm.” Bucky reached over to his left arm with his right and knocked against the bicep. A dull thud, definitely not made by flesh and bone emanated from the limb.  

“Why…” Darcy stopped. She wanted him to keep going, to continue to tell her everything that had happened, but so far she still couldn’t understand why he’d never stayed in contact with her. Why she wasn’t good enough to help him through all that he’d endured. They’d shared everything up to that point.

“I was real fucked up, Darce, truth be told, still not the greatest. PTSD, you know? Then I was doing physical therapy almost every day, I got picked for this experimental prosthetic program through Stark Industries and got turned into a damn cyborg,” Bucky stopped and held his left hand up, flexed the fingers. Darcy couldn’t believe how it moved. The only thing that gave the arm up as not being Bucky’s originally was a faint whir of cervos when it moved and aesthetics; if it hadn’t been brushed steel, anyone and everyone would be none the wiser. “I’m not the same person. I didn’t think you’d want...Darcy, my head’s just not right anymore, damaged goods...I’m broken.” The last part was spat out like it was something deplorable on his tongue.

“You’re not broken,” she said instantly. “How could you think that? And how could you think that me, of all people, would care about what happened other than wanting to help? Do you think I’m that horrible of a person?” Hurt filled her voice.

“No!” Bucky said forcefully. “No, Darcy. I-I knew you wouldn’t care, but...I couldn’t burden you with all this, princess, I just couldn’t do that to you. I knew that if I came to you, you'd do anything to help me. You'd have given up so much. I couldn't ask you to do that. You're so bright and good and I’d take that all away from you. It was easier this way.”

Darcy was back to avoiding Bucky’s face. She didn’t want him to see the tears that blurred her vision. “Easier for who?”

“You were in your senior year of college. You think you needed to worry about some guy you wrote to after he became an amputee? Would it have been better to get my texts night after night when I woke up screaming because of the nightmares? Or when I couldn’t talk myself into leaving Clint’s apartment because I was too frightened of the crowds on the street? Listening to me complain about pain in an arm that I didn’t have anymore, sound like a good time, pretty girl? How about when I whined and complained about endless hours of physical therapy and calibrations to make this hunk of metal work? Or the muscle pains and strains I had to learn to live with because it’s so much heavier than flesh and bone and my body is constantly trying to compensate? No, instead, I could give you a normal year. You graduated, started grad school, started working with Stark. You had good things, Darcy. I can’t be the single bad thing in your life.”

“You had no right to make that decision for me!” She screamed at him, tears running hot and fast down her flushed cheeks. Darcy lashed out, going to slap his stubbled cheek, but Bucky easily caught her arm and tugged her into his arms. She struggled hard against him for a few minutes, beat his chest with her balled up fists as the wet sobs wracked her body. It felt like they were physically clawing their way from inside her chest cavity, ripping her insides to bloody scraps along the way.

Bucky held her tight against him even as she struggled. He let her punch and bite and claw at him until the fight finally left her and she sagged against his chest. “You were everything,” she said weakly. "Then went away and I had nothing."

Darcy drank in the feeling of Bucky’s hands stroking down her arms and over her back, through her hair. She didn’t realize that he’d been talking, but it filtered in slowly, the litany of apologies that never stopped. He said them like prayer, soft and interspersed with soothing, calming noises, with a kind of conviction that Darcy had never heard anyone use before.

Darcy decided then and there that he no longer got to make the decisions on what was good for her or what she needed. Whether he liked it or not, the answer to both questions was and always would be Bucky Barnes. She hadn't told him that before, had been too frightened of his possible response, so even though she was angry that he'd cut her out of his life for her own good, she felt partially responsible for their current predicament. It was time to rectify the situation. If he didn't want her, he'd still have her support and from what she'd observed of him, he needed it. Needed her. And heaven knows she never stopped needing him.

She lifted her head and looked at Bucky. Her eyes darted from his striking blue greys down to the pink of his full lips and back. If she shifted just a couple of inches, she could close the gap between them and kiss him. The more she thought about it, the more she wanted that to happen. “Bucky,” she whispered.

“Yeah, Darce?”

“I’ma kiss you now. If...if you don’t, you know...want me to…then you should say--”

Bucky ducked his head and captured her lips in a slow, sweet kiss, cutting off her words. It was chaste, just a soft pressing of lips and Darcy was reasonably sure she’d never felt anything so astounding. Bucky’s hands cradled either side of her neck and as he pulled away to lean their foreheads together, he stroked the underside of her jaw with his thumbs, one warm, one cool. Even after all of the deliciously filthy things they’d written or said to each other, nothing rattled Darcy the way that kiss and those gentle touches seemed to.

“So you want me to kiss you, is what you’re saying,” Darcy murmured in a dreamy voice.

Bucky chuckled. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“I might, just a little bit,” she quipped. Bucky reached over and tipped her chin up until their eyes met and locked. Her smirk melted under the intensity of his gaze. “Still? After everything I put you through? It’s that easy for you?”

“I never said it was easy,” she admitted. “My brain may be sounding the idiot alarm, and oh man, do I know what that one sounds like, but my heart is telling me that it’s worth fighting your hang ups tooth and nail to let me back in if that’s what I have to do. Is that what I have to do, Bucky? You want me kicking and screaming? Or will you stop being an ass and take a good thing and fucking run with it, because seriously, throw a girl a bone here.”

Bucky tightened the circle of his arms around her again and huffed a laugh into the cloud of her curls. Darcy tilted her her head up and nuzzled her face into the side of his neck. The motion caused him to suck in a sharp breath. “Jesus, kitten, you’re freezing. We should get you somewhere warm while you still have your fingers and toes.”

Drawing back, she bit into her bottom lip. “Do you wanna get a drink with me?”

 


	8. Chapter 8

The entire walk and ride to Marco’s Darcy kept stealing glances at Bucky when she thought he wasn’t looking. He finally caught her while they were on the subway, the car nearly empty.

“What?” He asked her, the beginnings of a smile playing on the corners of his full lips.

“I keep thinking that you’re going to disappear on me,” she confessed. “The next time I look back you won’t be there and this was all some weird tequila slash burrito induced fever dream even though we haven’t had burritos or booze yet.”

Bucky reached over and took her hand, lacing their fingers together. “Better?”

Her heart fluttered a little. “Yeah,” she breathed. “Much.”

* * *

 

It was somewhere in the realm of 1 am when Darcy and Bucky stumbled up the steps of Darcy’s building, giggling like children with their arms wrapped around one another under the guise of needing additional balance and stability. Their time at Marco’s had been amazing. They drank, ate, and traded ridiculous stories. Bucky of his squad and Darcy mostly of the antics of Jane, Tony, and Bruce. They laughed loudly and often, though, even with the joyful atmosphere Darcy refused to relinquish her hold of his hand.

Darcy was fumbling with her keys and the lock when Bucky pressed up behind her and buried his face in the chocolate waves of her hair. “Mmm, you smell good, Darcy. How do you smell so damn good? Like strawberries,” he paused to take a deep inhale of the skin of her neck, “and sunshine.”

An involuntary shiver ran up and down Darcy’s body just as her key clicked over the tumbler in the deadbolt and she roughly shoved the door open. “Get in here you meatball,” she chuckled as she spun on her heels and hooked her fingers into the line of buttons on Bucky’s waistcoat, yanking him inside before closing and relocking the door. Darcy grabbed his hand and tugged him over to the couch. “Sit,” she commanded with a fond smile and a teensy shove and he dutifully collapsed onto the cushions with a lopsided, goofy grin.

Darcy ambled to the kitchen to retrieve a couple bottles of water from the fridge before returning to him. Bucky had sprawled out, one arm slung across the back of the couch, his legs spread wide and his head tipped back, eyes closed. He looked so relaxed that Darcy was hesitant to approach him and ruin that state of calm. “M’not sleepin’. Hear you tiptoein’ ‘round over there,” he mumbled. “Com’ere?”

She set the plastic bottles on the coffee table and sat on the other side of the sofa. Without opening his eyes, Bucky reached for Darcy and pulled her over to him until she was pressed in the crook of his arm, her head on his well muscled chest. Darcy felt him rest his chin on the top of her head, felt him breathe deeply.

“I dream of you,” he confessed, his voice sleep slurred. “Every dream that’s not actually a nightmare is of you. Your eyes, your smile, every one of your laughs that I’ve ever heard. You saying my name or those silly pet names you make up for me. Whenever I go to sleep I always hope you’ll be waiting for me.”

Before long Darcy heard his breathing even out and a soft snore escape him. She swallowed a yawn herself and conceded that it was late and she should probably get to bed...but she didn’t want to leave him. Darcy was still terrified that she’d sleep and when she woke he wouldn’t exist, that the entire evening would have been a figment of her imagination. She looked up at his sleep lax face and reached to stroke his cheek. His eyelids fluttered and slowly opened. “Let’s go, we’re both exhausted, Bucky,” Darcy whispered.

“There a station near here?” He asked and rubbed absently at his eyes.

“Just stay here,” Darcy offered. She didn’t want him leaving her sight. She stood and helped pull Bucky to his feet and down the hall to her bedroom. “Sleep in here...with you?” Bucky asked, not taking his eyes off the bed.

“Your virtue is safe, Barnes,” Darcy said with a roll of her eyes followed by a large yawn. “Sleepy,” she pouted, “Get in.” She shimmied out of her jeans, slipped her bra out from under her top after a complicated set of moves that managed not to put any of the goods on display, and slid between the sheets in just her tee shirt and panties.

Bucky stood on the other side of the bed, chewing his lip nervously and shifting from foot to foot. Darcy huffed out a little sigh of exasperation. “Would you be more comfortable on my awful couch?” Darcy asked. “I can make it up for you, but I can’t guarantee you’ll be a fully functioning human being tomorrow. Thing’ll wreck your back.”

“No. Nope. I’m good. This is good,” he said, seemingly for himself as much as for her, as his right hand went up to settle on his left shoulder self consciously.

A little wounded noise spilled from Darcy’s lips as she witnessed Bucky’s gesture. “Oh, Buck.”

He shook his head side to side vehemently. “No pity, n-not from you, Darcy, I can’t take it from you.” Bucky’s voice was rough with emotion even if his face was closed down and blank.

“Not pity,” Darcy whispered. “Regret. Sadness. That you had to go through all that and I wasn’t there to help. I wish I could’ve been there,” she paused and flicked the covers on the opposite side of the bed open and held out her arms. “Please let me be here now.”

Bucky worked the buttons of his waist coat and button down shirt with shaking fingers. He slid them both off his shoulders and let the bundle fall to pool on the floor. Bucky consciously turned his body so his left side faced away from Darcy before working off the black skinny jeans and sliding under the covers, but not before Darcy caught a glimpse of the cybernetic fused to his shoulder.

Darcy flopped over onto his body, pressing firmly against his side and chest before letting her fingers drift up to the seam of flesh and metal. Her fingers gingerly mapped the intricate network of scarring that extended from his shoulder and down his left side, the meeting of flesh and metal. She felt Bucky flinch and she switched to petting him, drawing her hand from the cap of his shoulder down the length of his prosthetic over and over. “I don’t care about this. You should know that. You’re beautiful.” Darcy rubbed her cheek against his sternum before pressing a quick kiss to his chest and wrapping her arms around his middle as tight as she could. “I’m here, Buckybear. Be here as long as you let me.”

The tighter she held on the more Bucky's muscles seemed to relax and soon enough, he was snoring softly with his fingers buried in the silk strands her hair.

* * *

 

It was the whimpers and rustling of restless limbs that woke Darcy a few hours after she’d drifted to sleep. Light from the street lamps filtered in through her thin curtains, but it was apparent that it wasn’t yet morning.

She was pressed up against Bucky’s back and she could feel him shaking, practically vibrating, as low moans and pleas escaped his lips. All of his muscles were locked up tight and his breathing was labored.

Darcy was unsure how to proceed. She could remember being told when she was younger that waking a person from sleep walking was unwise, but could the same be said about violent nightmares? She didn’t like the thought of Bucky languishing within some horrible dreamscape of darkness and fright, but would she be doing more harm than good if she tried to wake him. One more strangled whimper made up her mind for her.

Darcy stretched out a careful hand and wiped the sweat drenched hair back from Bucky’s forehead. She gently rocked him back and forth with her body as she stretched against his back and whispered soothing sounds against his ear, telling him he was safe, that she’d never let anything hurt him again, that he was loved.

Gradually, the nightmare seemed to recede, until Bucky’s breathing once again levelled out to normal. “Thank you,” came the soft but gruff voice of her bed mate.

“Shhh, go back to sleep,” she replied and shut her eyes, surrendering to the pull of sleep again.

* * *

 

The next time Darcy woke, it was morning and she was still wrapped around Bucky, latched on as tightly as a limpet.

She could hear Bucky breathing and could tell from the cadence that he wasn’t asleep. Darcy squeezed her eyes shut and steeled her heart. "IthinkI'minlovewithyou," she blurted. She felt Bucky’s muscles tense and his back straighten. She momentarily wished for a hole to open up and swallow her down. But no. No. That wasn’t right, she wanted to do this. One of the reasons the past year had weighed so heavily on her was that she’d never been completely honest with Bucky regarding her feelings toward him. She'd played the flirty friend role and played it well, she'd cherished every moment, but behind that she was nursing the deepest feelings she’d ever let herself develop for another person. “I needed you to finally know. Never thought I’d be able to say that and I’m not about to pass up on a perfectly good second chance when it presents itself. It doesn’t matter if you don’t feel the same way. Please don’t...don’t worry about that at all, okay? It’s not an issue, in fact, consider it a non-issue. I just...I need to be able to talk to you, tease you, watch your back, help you. I’m betting you haven’t laughed a lot lately and we both know that I’m one funny motherfucker,” she said with a small quirk of her lips.

All the tension she’d felt flood his muscles when her little tirade began bled out and she felt him shaking before she heard the rough chuckles. Bucky flipped in her grasp and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her onto his chest while he rested against the pillows. His face was split in a wide, toothy grin. “You...aren’t mad and stuff,” Darcy said slowly.

He ran his hand down over the curve of Darcy’s spine. “Why the hell would I be mad about the woman I’ve been stupid over for well over a year sayin’ that she loves me?” He asked her gently, the smile still teasing the corners of his plush lips. Bucky tilted Darcy’s chin up with a finger and kissed her tenderly.

When the kiss ended, the smile had disappeared and been replaced by what Darcy could only interpret as apprehension. “There’s a 'but', isn’t there?” She asked and settled back onto his torso, resting her chin on her hands and waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“You just gotta know it’s not gonna be easy, darlin’,” Bucky offered. “You remember last night...that’s..well, that was nothing compared to what I usually deal with. I don’t know if you being so close made it easier or what, but sometimes when the nightmares come, when I get out of them, I…” he broke off, a look of anguish plastered to his features. “I’ve hurt Clint before. I get disoriented, don’t know where I am, what’s happening, and I think I’m back in the desert, that I’m being attacked. I don’t know that I could live with myself if I ever hurt you,” Bucky caressed Darcy’s cheek with the back of his hand.

“Being without you would be worse than anything that could happen,” Darcy protested. “I’m not letting you go. We talked about my decisions being my own and I’m making one right now. Whatever happens we’ll work it out together, understand?”

Bucky nodded, his relief palpable. “Yes, ma’am.”

Darcy hid her face in her hands. “Oh god, now I feel like a librarian or someone who just scolded you.”

“A naughty librarian?” She whipped her head up at the question and was greeted with an exaggerated waggle of eyebrows, leer, and a little pat to one side of her ass. Darcy rolled off Bucky’s chest and shook with the force of the laughter that overtook her. Bucky quickly followed, looming over her on his hands and knees, kissing any skin he found bare; her neck, her shoulder, a little piece of her side where her tee shirt had ridden up and he didn’t let up until her laughter had died down to the occasional snicker and wiggle caused by his tickling touches.

She gazed up at him, his blue grey eyes, the insanity of his sleep mussed hair, the sunny smile that warmed her from the inside out, and wondered how she’d gotten so lucky that they’d found each other again.

Darcy cupped his slightly stubbled cheek and drew his face down to hers, molding their lips together in a slow, sweet kiss. A timid swipe of Bucky’s tongue against the seam of her lips and she opened them readily, allowing him to explore the inside of her mouth and tangle their tongues together in a sensual dance. Darcy shuffled herself around, never breaking the contact of their lips, to give Bucky room to settle in the cradle of her thighs. Her arms moved instinctively around his shoulders, looking to pull him even closer against her. Bucky shuddered as her fingers traced over the seam where his prosthetic attached to his body and he drew back to wheeze in a breath.

“M’sorry,” he mumbled, cast his eyes away from her, made a move to roll away and out of her grasp.  Darcy simply wrapped her legs around his waist and held on like a stubborn koala to halt his retreat.

“Nope. Stay right here. I love you, you big dope. That means all of you, that means this, too,” Darcy stroked a hand down his arm before she leaned up and kissed the angry arrangement of scars left as evidence from his initial injuries as well as the numerous surgeries he’d had to undergo to attach the prosthetic. Bucky groaned softly, the sound barely audible and his eyes slammed shut at the feeling. “Oh,” Darcy chuckled, “I think someone liked that. Is it sensitive?”

Bucky bit into his bottom lip before he nodded. “Scar tissue is a little hit and miss, some of it doesn’t feel much, but some...everything is amplified.”

Darcy smirked impishly up at him and his blushing cheeks. “Oh really? How does this feel?” She drawled before dragging her tongue along the scarred seam. Bucky growled deep in his throat and buried his face into the crook of her neck.

“Killin’ me, princess.” His voice was muffled by the wild cloud of her hair, but the vibrations of his words against her skin made Darcy shiver and arch against his body, effectively rutting against the hardness she felt rubbing against her thigh. They both moaned at the feeling. “If you don’t want this, Darce, tell me now, please. Tell me to stop.”

“Not on your life,” she panted and drew her tee shirt off, tossing it blindly off the bed. Darcy thought she heard a few expletives fall from those plush lips before they were everywhere, worshiping her.

“Gorgeous,” he said reverently before he moved on to nip and suck little marks everywhere his seeking mouth could reach. He peppered her shoulders, neck and collar bones before moving down to tease her breasts with his mouth and calloused fingertips. Bucky lathed a nipple with the roughness of his tongue before he withdrew and blew a stream of cool air over it, causing it to harden and peak. He did this to each in turn before gently suckling them into the warmth of his mouth, Darcy letting out little mewls of pleasure and writhing against him all the while.

She'd never felt so cherished, so claimed. Every place Bucky touched bloomed with heat as though he was lighting a fire beneath Darcy's skin. He was marking her, making her his.

Darcy pulled and pushed at his shoulders with needy hands. “Please, Buck, please,” she pleaded, “Need you.”

“I’ve got you, beautiful,” he responded and Darcy could feel the movement of his lips dragging over her skin as he talked and continued to lavish biting kisses down her stomach. He hooked his fingers in the elastic of her panties before looking up at her, seeking permission. The irises of his eyes had been nearly swallowed up by the blown black of his pupils, his eyelids heavy with lust. “Can I?”

“Yes, yesyesyes, baby! Swear to god if you don’t hurry, Barnes, I’ll take care of myself,” Darcy threatened hurriedly as a large grin stole across her face. She hitched her hips up off the mattress to help him tug her panties down and off her legs. He kicked his boxer briefs off a moment later.

“That’s how it is?” He asked as he playfully bit at her calves and inner thighs with his straight, white teeth before nabbing Darcy’s wrists in one of his hands, pinning them above her head. This action brought them face to face, mere inches apart, and Darcy couldn’t restrain herself from crushing their mouths together in another searing exchange.

“Condom?” He asked when they both broke to suck in much needed oxygen.

Darcy just shook her head and locked eyes with him. “Don't need it. Wanna feel you, all of you.”

Bucky’s breath caught in his chest for a moment before he smoothed his one free hand down to ruck her thigh higher on his waist. He positioning himself at her entrance and slowly pushing his hard length inside. “Jesus, you’re perfect, feel so good, kitten,” he sighed once sheathed inside her to the hilt. He began to rock his hips, letting Darcy get used to the feel of him filling her completely before he drew out almost completely and slid back in, keeping his thrusts maddenly slow but forceful, savoring their connection. Soon they were both panting and moaning with each slick slide of his cock into her tight, wet center.

Darcy tilted her hips, countering each of Bucky’s movements with one of her own. Her back arched off the bed of it’s own volition, her hands still bound by one of his as he stretched out above her. She never wanted him to stop, wanted to feel all of him everywhere, wanted them cleaved together for as long as possible. “Need,” she gasped and licked up at his mouth, his lips parted slightly around his own panting breath. “Touch you, need to touch you.”

Bucky relinquished her hands immediately, using his newly freed hand to stroke down the soft skin of Darcy’s body until it reached her hip which he proceeded to caress and squeeze, pulling her against him, a counterpoint to his undulations. Darcy’s own hands flew to his shoulders before greedily skating down the musculature of his back, feeling the raw power of his movements in each bunch and release of the muscle, and coming to rest against the indent of the small of his back, hugging him close just as he was doing to her. Darcy didn’t think she’d ever have him close enough, even the air between them at that moment was too much.

She hooked a leg around one of Bucky's and, using all the strength she could muster, managed to reverse their positions. Bucky let out a bellow of surprise at the quick movement of the flip and laughed when he realized he'd come to rest with his head on the pillows and Darcy straddling his hips. She gave him a smirk before reaching down to encircle his cock with her petite fingers and gave him a couple languorous strokes, pulling a low groan from his throat.

Darcy stretched forward on her knees to press her lips to his ear. “I seem to remember telling you I wanted to ride you,” she whispered hotly before flicking her tongue out to trace the shell of his ear. She sucked the fleshy lobe between her lips as she positioned Bucky's cock once again at her entrance. Sounds of pleasure bounced between them as she sunk down on his cock, enveloping him once again inside her. Darcy planted her hands on his well formed pectorals and started to rock her hips before gaining more momentum, chasing their releases.

Bucky's hands gripped her hips and she briefly thought she'd find fingerprint shaped bruises later and was a bit surprised that she didn't mind that thought at all. Darcy teased at his nippled before scratching her hands down his abdomen, coming to rest on the flat plains as their rhythm continued gaining speed until Darcy was riding him hard and fast. The sounds of their pleasure rang out in the room, neither of them able to hold back.

She could feel the pull inside her, heralding her coming orgasm and she relinquished all control to it. She let her head drop back when it came crashing down like a tidal wave. She cried out Bucky's name as she crested her peak and shook apart above him. Her inner walls squeezed his member rhythmically as a look of pure euphoria stole across her face. The combination of feeling and witnessing Darcy come had Bucky following her over the edge moments later. A half dozen more upward thrusts of his hips and Bucky spilled, hot inside of her with a long, shuddering moan before cradling Darcy’s limp body against his chest and nuzzling into her neck to drop slow, reverential kisses there.

“Can't believe this happened,” Bucky murmured after their breathing at returned to normal; his voice was awed. “That was-”

“Wow,” Darcy supplied, her voice a little hoarse from all the pleasured sounds that had escaped her throat.

“Yeah, wow.” She could hear the smile in his voice and one look confirmed it was enormous and sappy and kind of fucked out. Darcy thought that Bucky had never looked so beautiful. The shadows that had hounded him when she’d seen him at SI seemed miles away. He looked...happy, content.

Darcy took a deep breath, crossed her arms over Bucky’s chest and rested her chin on them. “So, I guess your virtue wasn't as safe as I'd previously guaranteed…”

He laughed hard enough to dislodge Darcy from her perch on his chest but he quickly pulled her into the circle of his arms. “I don't think you'll hear me complain, gorgeous,” he huffed into her hair before giving her a little squeeze. “Love you, Darcy girl. Don't know why you want me, but I’ll take advantage until you smarten up.”

Darcy felt her heart give a lurch in her chest before beating double time. She threaded their fingers together. “What am I going to do with you and your sass, Buckeroo?” She asked after a contented sigh.

“Dunno, but I look forward to finding out.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's all she wrote, folks. Thanks for sticking with me through the end. I've appreciated all the kudos and comments while trying to work this thing, you're all so kind and encouraging. 
> 
> I'm already working on something new, so I hope to see you all soon!


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